Chapter Twenty-Nine
Wes
If I thought returning to work would give me a sense of normalcy, I was sorely mistaken. Nice as it is to get the well-wishes from folks who haven’t seen me recently, I’m sleepwalking through my day.
Teaching has been easy enough. My intro-level hospitality course is populated with apathetic teenagers who are more concerned with their social media feeds. If I placed a life-sized cutout of me at the front of the room and played a recording, I’m not sure they’d notice the difference.
At the Premiere, however? As remembered echoes of student chatter follow me through the brightly lit hotel lobby, I can barely remember where I am.
“Mr. Monroe. Mr. Monroe?”
Oh. Right. That’s me, I suppose. “Yes, Murray?”
The hotel housekeeping manager chuckles awkwardly. “Everything okay? Seems like you zoned out there.”
Oh. Yeah. Fantastic. I’d rather be at home in between two men, but barring that, I’d rather do literally anything other than be here. Wrestle a skunk. Dunk my head in boiling water. Paint a snake’s toenails.
“Sure. Fine. Getting used to being back, that’s all.”
“Right. Of course. I heard what happened.” He pushes his glasses up his nose with one finger.
“And, well, on that note. I wanted to let you know Nadia quit. She stopped in yesterday with her daughter and said she would ‘clean sewers or start an OnlyFans’ before she came back here.” He looks saddened by the news, but personally I can’t blame her.
When I let myself remember, I can feel her shaking against me when those two men approached, ready to shove pills down her throat.
“She has to do whatever is right for her.”
“Sure. Sure. Was it really awful, then?” He scoffs, most likely at himself. “What am I asking? Of course it was.”
As it so often does these days, everything from that night plays in fast-forward behind my eyes. The drugs, the confusion…the continuous grappling with how Adam and Troy made me feel good even though they weren’t supposed to. I can only be grateful they were there with me instead of someone else.
Underneath it all is the mixed blessing that it brought the three of us together. Things could have been much worse, and I’m grateful they weren’t.
“We survived,” I manage.
“Well. I truly am sorry.” He takes a step back. “I’m here if you need a friend, eh?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
We both know he’s only being polite. Besides, I can’t fathom talking to anyone about this who didn’t experience what we did that day. Fallon has made more attempts, and it’s not that I don’t trust him, I just don’t know how to confide in him.
Not about this.
I’m shuffling mail at the front desk when a hand lands on my ass. “Who was that guy? You think he was involved in all this?”
A startled yelp escapes me, and I turn to find Adam at my side. Since he’s got both hands behind his back, the hand on my ass must belong to… “Troy. You can’t do that here. In fact.” I give both of them a look. “You can’t be behind this desk. And why would Murray be involved?”
“Adam is convinced that someone who works at the hotel set you up. Maybe that Max douche.”
“What?” They’re right that Max is a douche, but I can’t picture him going that far.
“Someone who worked here would know the employee lot has no cameras,” Adam argues.
“So would anyone who’s scoped the place. Relax, Kitten.” Troy gives my ass another squeeze before moving himself to the far side of the desk. “We wanted to come by and see how you’re doing. Your response to the text we sent you earlier seemed pretty bleak.”
I blink at them both. “You asked if I wanted to see a movie on my night off and I said, ‘sure.’ How is that bleak?”
Troy rolls his eyes. “Because usually you send us a cute GIF with a guy giving a thumbs-up, or something snarky like ‘only if I get to have popcorn.’ By comparison, your one-word answer did, in fact, seem bleak.”
“Okay. Well. I don’t know what to tell you. You asked if I wanted to watch a movie, I agreed that I did.”
They glance at each other in that way they do, which I’ll admit I don’t love. They’ve got years of being together and their own silent communication, but it leaves me feeling like a third wheel in my own relationship.
Is there a problem here? Are they getting tired of me?
Stop assuming the worst-case scenario. That’s how you got into trouble with Fallon, remember?
So I suck it up and ask. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Troy insists.
“It’s all good,” Adam adds.
“Great. Fantastic.” It’s too early in my shift to be this tired. “Remember when we agreed that this situation didn’t work if we weren’t honest? If I need to keep reminding you both?—”
“Hey. Chill.” Troy’s hand lands on the desk in front of me. It reminds me of the night we fucked while he held on to my hands and stared into my eyes. My body’s response is dizzying.
A tight breath rushes out. “Sorry. It’s been harder than I thought settling back into a routine here. Everything feels off.”
“We get it. We’re not too happy about getting back to normal either.” Troy glances at Adam again. “But we never exactly nailed down what we wanted to do about Rigby. We weren’t trying to lie, but it didn’t seem like the right moment to get into it.”
“You guys aren’t on your way there now, are you?” I glance up above my head as if I could possibly see who’s on the VIP floor from here.
“No. No way. But Brennan needs an answer.” Troy leans in. “We tried offering to refund him for the booking, but Rigby’s insisting on getting what he paid for. Brennan’s not wanting to piss off one of his best customers. Adam insists he’s feeling up to it, but?—”
“I already said I’d do it.” Will I really? The idea fills me with dread, but I would.
No fucking wonder everyone’s worried about me. First I volunteer for shady illegal porn, and now I’m offering to whore myself out?
Come to think of it, I’m a little worried about myself right now. Except, why should I be too good for it if they’re not?
Because it’s not the sort of thing you do.
And yet. And yet …getting on my knees before work so I could swallow a twenty-three-year-old’s cock wasn’t something I did either, until it was.
The two men in front of me seem equally shocked. “We, uh, didn’t think you were serious about that,” Adam says.
“You two do it all the time.” I glance down the desk, where Dima, the night clerk on duty, is dealing with an older woman cradling a fluffy Pomeranian. The dog, for his or her part, is growling in Dima’s face. Handling guests who bring their pets is such a crapshoot. Better him than me.
When I’m convinced nobody’s close enough to overhear, I ask quietly, “We’d use condoms, right?”
“Fuck yes,” they both say at the same time.
“We’re both on PrEP, and we’d never fuck a client raw,” Troy adds. “Nobody but us three, remember?”
Nobody but us three. Something in my chest loosens. “Right. I know.”
“It’s okay if you need us to say it again,” Adam says, as if he senses my unease.
“Thanks. I looked into that stuff, but…”
“It can be pricey,” Troy agrees. “There’s a free clinic on the East End, though. We can all go together if you want.”
I nod. All at once there’s a burning pressure behind my eyes that I can’t quite explain.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Adam toys with his lower lip. “It’s not you, babe; it’s not wanting to expose you to all that.”
“To Rigby,” Troy clarifies. “Bad enough how he acts like he’s above you. We don’t want you subjected to that part of our world.” His phone buzzes in his hand. “Shit. Rigby wants to do it on Saturday.”
My casual shrug is all bullshit and bravado. “Saturday’s good. I’m not working that day.”
“Oh yes you are.” Max comes around the corner.
“No.” I turn to look him in the eye. “I never work Saturdays.”
Max took me off the schedule for weekends after he started sleeping with Gina. At the time, I was pissed. Tips are better on the weekends, and some of the VIPs hand them out freely.
“After you missed all that work, I retooled the schedule,” he says while he rifles through a drawer, not looking at me or anyone else. He really ought to, though. I’m not sure what my face looks like, but Adam and Troy are all but cracking their knuckles.
Wrong as it is, I remember that guy Adam beat to death, and picture him destroying my boss’s face.
“I took sick leave, Max. I’m a salaried employee. You can’t force me to make up sick leave.”
He gives me a smarmy grin. “Are you sure about that?”
“Is this because Gina suddenly realized she can have a more meaningful relationship with her vibrator than with you? That’s not my fault.”
His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. “You need to watch yourself, Monroe. I’m still your boss.”
“Hey.” Adam’s face appears over Max’s left shoulder. I didn’t notice when they moved back behind the desk, but as I’m wondering about it, Troy’s hand clamps down on Max’s right arm.
Max’s face reddens. He’s clearly in pain and trying not to let it show.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you’d better let me go before I call security and have you banned from the premises.
” With a wince, he glances over his shoulder.
“I know the two of you do a lot of…business here.”
He manages to make the word “business” sound as disgusting as possible.
“Don’t you fucking talk down to them,” I growl. “Threaten me all you want, but you leave them out of it unless you want your balls shoved into your throat.”
Where did that come from? Wes of a few months ago would be appalled at all of this. Discussing sex work. Watching someone I’m sleeping with threaten my boss.
Hearing myself threaten my boss. I don’t know who this new Wes is, but it’s funny how little I care.
“You don’t fucking mess with Wes again,” Troy adds.
He’s still got his hand on Max. From the looks of things he’s digging his thumb in, pressing on sensitive tendons.
“Try to ban us from this hotel and find out what happens. It’ll hurt you more than us.
And if you hurt Wes? Then you’ll definitely be hurting more than us. ”
This is completely ridiculous, juvenile, chest-thumping behavior. Why does it make me want to jump them both?
Adam looks at me over Max’s shoulder. “You want us to take you home, Kitten?”
Dima, who’s crossed in front of the desk on his way to the concierge stand, looks over and mouths, Kitten?
My face flames as I shrug and turn back to Adam. With one last glance at my shithead boss, I nod. “Yeah. Take me home.”
“You can’t walk out.” Max moves to block my exit. “You’ve barely started your shift.”
“Right. Well. Fire me, then.” I drop the stack of mail I was shuffling and grab Troy’s free hand. “Let him go. Take me home.”
Apparently those are the magic words, because Troy reluctantly complies. “Fine, Kitten. Let’s go.”
“Monroe,” Max calls behind me. “I know the GM of nearly every hotel in a two-hour radius. It’s no problem at all to give you the boot and see you blacklisted from the entire business.”
I’ll be honest, I almost stop. He’s probably bluffing. But if Max really has those kinds of connections? I’m nauseated at the thought. What the hell am I doing?
But then Adam tugs on my hand. And Troy says, “Don’t worry, Kitten. We’ll figure something out.”
Fuck it. I’m choosing Troy and Adam. Let Max come for me. I’ll hit him myself.
After showing Max my middle finger, I walk with each of my hands in one of theirs.